This Ratty Old Thing
by Ripley95
Summary: Hannah Shepard grieves for the loss of her child.


The dark room filled with a blue haze. The comfortable silence was pierced with the hum of electronics. Hannah Shepard stood in front of her desk, having just turned on her personal terminal, hesitance washing over her. She pulled out her chair and sat down, barely acknowledging the recording terminal in front of her. She was looking down at her hands, outside of the view of the camera feed, before she finally let out a sigh.

"Hi, Jane," she said, finally looking up to face the terminal. She shook her head and scoffed at herself. "I feel like an idiot." She looked down to her hands again before finally addressing the screen.

"My therapist said I should do this. Something about finding closure. I've been putting this off because it feels silly. I know you're not there. You can't respond. It seemed pointless." She paused for a moment before continuing. "But I found something today that made me think of you," she said, looking down at her hands once again. She finally pulled it up to show the screen. It was a small stuffed dog, a little worse for wear, but still recognizable. The face was smooshed awkwardly, the fur almost seeming matted in some places. There were stitchings and a couple of patches to hold the poor thing together. It was well loved to say the least. She looked at it with a sorrowful smile before turning it to face the screen.

"It's Puppy," she said with a quiet laugh as her smile became more genuine. "It's funny how kids do that. Give literal names to their toys. I never even questioned it until now, it was always just 'Puppy,' because that's what you named it." She shook her head again before lowering the stuffed animal out of view again. "I wonder if you even remember this?" Hannah asked, still staring at the toy.

"I can't even remember if I ever told you the story behind it. This wasn't supposed to be some kind of special keepsake or anything. I wasn't even pregnant with you yet when I bought it. I just saw it on clearance at some store that was going out of business and I thought it was cute. It was nothing more than an impulse buy, really. I wasn't even sure what I was going to do with it. It was just cheap, and I thought it would be a nice reminder of the dog I had growing up. In reality though, it just stayed on a shelf in my room, largely forgotten about. That is, until you were born," she said, as she looked down at the soft toy in her hands, stroking its face with her thumb.

"We didn't buy much for you. We still planned on continuing our life serving on starships, and as you know, personal items are a limited luxury, but I found this dog again and thought that it was suitable for a child. Turned out, I was more than right, it was perfect for you. From the moment you knew how to grab onto things, you were practically inseparable from it."

She hadn't relinquished her gaze on the stuffed dog in her hands this whole time. She took in a deep breath, before moving her line of sight back up to the screen. "I don't think I ever said it enough, but I'm so incredibly proud of the woman you turned into. You certainly made a name for yourself. More than your father or I ever did. You're so strong and independent. Everything that we ever could have hoped for," she said, her sorrowful smile returning.

"You weren't always that way, though. Of course you were only a small child then, but you used to hold on to this as though it were some kind of life preserver. You hid behind it whenever you were scared of anything. You couldn't leave our quarters without it. You would get physically upset if we ever tried to take it from you," this elicited a laugh from her, as her eyes moved somewhere distant in thought. "You used to feed it at meal times. We had to make a separate plate for it, and you would feed it your food. Some of the stains are still on it, even," she said running her finger over the streaks of colour running down its body. They had dulled over time, but they were still there. "Boy, did it ever stink sometimes. I had to sneak into your room at night so I could wash and dry it before you woke up, god forbid you wake up in the middle of the night without it," she said, her wistful smile still strong, reliving the memories.

"I still remember the way you held it tightly to your face at night. I remember you barely being able to keep your eyes open as I sang 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.' You always begged for that song from the minute you could talk. It was always stars with you, even from such a young age. I should have guessed you were destined for a life in space," she said with a soft chuckle. "As you got older, of course you started to be the one taking over bedtime, telling me the stories. You talked about having your own crew someday, and when you were still really little, Puppy was always your XO. I remember you bouncing around the room excitedly, barely able to hold your containment at the thought of following in our footsteps. You wanted to run a ship just like mommy and daddy."

The corners of her lips fell slightly, still looking at the stuffed dog as she tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, lost in thought for a moment. "Little did we know, you were somewhat of a prophet in that regard."

She looked back to the screen then, any trace of mirth entirely gone. "Sometimes I wonder if we pushed you into this life. It was never my intention. As much as I've appreciated my time in the Alliance, I always felt like it was my only option. I never wanted that for you. I can't deny that you've done well with it, but sometimes I wish I pushed you harder to consider other things. We never really talked about our careers much, but were you happy? Did you like it?" She cut herself off rather abruptly after that, realising she would never get a response.

Her gaze shifted back to the stuffed dog. Any semblance of happy memories was exchanged for something resembling disdain. "They never even found your body. How is someone supposed to grieve with no proof of death? I don't even have any ashes. No dog tags. Nothing!" She was visibly upset now, still not looking at the screen. She waited until she calmed down slightly before continuing. "Nothing but this ratty old thing."

She gave the toy one last glance as she brushed her thumb over the dog's face, and set it down on the desk. She didn't even bother looking back at the screen as she stood up, her finger hovering over the power button to her terminal.

"This was a mistake."

She pushed the power button, and the room returned to blackness.


End file.
